


One Happy Family

by trevorlyhills



Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-30
Updated: 2014-07-30
Packaged: 2018-02-11 01:31:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2048145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trevorlyhills/pseuds/trevorlyhills
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trevor needs a bit of help with his newborn baby girl. Who else would he call but the best criminal he knows?</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Happy Family

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Please excuse any mistakes, I wrote this in between the hours of 1 and 4 in the morning. Insomnia's a bitch!
> 
> This little fic was based on a tumblr post by my good friend soobwhaleomg (or noog on this site), who asked for someone to write a fic in which Michael helps a struggling Trevor take care of his baby. 
> 
> So yea, this is for you, love! Hope you like it :) Thanks for being such an awesome person!

Michael awoke slowly, holding on to the lasting embrace of sleep even as he was pulled from it by the an incessant whirring by his head. Lifting his head, he blinked in groggy confusion, taking a moment to regain his consciousness and his bearings enough to be able to pinpoint the sound. Glancing to his left, he saw his phone, shuffling across the surface of his nightstand with each vibration, the screen illuminated and so bright to his unadjusted eyes, he had to look away. And then, it stopped.  
  
Exhaling in quiet relief, the last fragments of sleep persisting, maintaining his indifference to anything else, Michael allowed his head to drop back into the pillow, burying his face into its comforting fabric.   
  
zzzz…zzzz  
  
“Jesus!” Michael whispered harshly as the buzzing came again, even louder to his ears now, and he snatched the phone up with a curse, squinting hard at its screen.  
  
3:00 AM glared at him from the top of the screen, and below that Trevor’s name and profile picture tested his patience. Growling low in his throat, he allowed himself a chance to breath, collecting himself before he could answer with a rage loud enough to wake the whole neighborhood. Quickly, his slid his thumb against the answer button and brought the device up to his ear.   
  
“The fuck do you want, Trevor?” He snapped, as rudely as he could manage in his croaky voice.  
  
Immediately he was greeted by the sound of a baby’s cry, so loud that he flinched and instinctively jerked the phone an inch or two away from his ear for a moment.  
  
“Michael? Oh, thank God!” Trevor returned. Despite the enthusiasm in his words, his voice was breathless and raspy. He sounded as tired as Michael felt. “I-I don’t know what to do, man. This kid- This kid will not stop crying, Mike. I swear to God, she’s been crying for an hour straight and I can’t get her to stop. She’s _relentless_! What do I do? What the fuck do I do?” The panic in Trevor’s voice was as clear as the unhappy shrieks from the baby in the room, and yet it was just a little amusing to Michael.  
  
He recalled the day a few weeks back when Trevor had called him up saying he had a surprise, and that he and Frank should meet him at the strip club as soon as possible. Michael had grudgingly accepted and made the drive to the Vanilla Unicorn with apprehension wound tight in his muscles at just what this surprise was, but admittedly he’d been glad at the opportunity to spend time in the company of his friends. The business with Devin Weston and all their other enemies was a few months behind them now, and they’d taken care not to be seen in each others company too often since then.  
  
He’d known Trevor for a long time, and his crazy antics no longer surprised Michael as much as they used to. However, nothing could have prepared him for walking into Trevor’s office and seeing the seasoned criminal holding a small, pink bundle in his scarred, tattooed arms.  
  
Dread had filled Michael’s stomach as he immediately jumped to conclusions, fearing Trevor had taken his strange concept of revenge and justice a bit too far and actually abducted the daughter of someone who had wronged him. But soon enough, his friend explained. He’d been a day or so into a smoking binge, so his first thought when he heard a baby crying outside was that he was hallucinating. However, the noise persisted until he finally opened his door to see what the fuss was about, only to find that the girl had been left in a dingy, old baby carrier on the front porch of Trevor’s trailer, with nothing but a note tucked into the seat’s siding. The note was from the child’s mother, who remained anonymous, and promiscuous Trevor had no idea as to who she could be. But she claimed that the girl’s name was Rose, and that she could no longer afford to take care of her, and that she was sure Trevor was the father, so she was leaving her there to be cared for.  
  
Michael wondered what had possessed the woman into thinking Trevor was the best option for her child here, and arrived at two conclusions. One, that she simply didn’t give a shit. Or two, she had never actually met Trevor. Even Franklin had his doubts, and they both wondered whether or not Trevor truly was the father. But the way their friend smiled at the little girl, and held her with such care, and talked about so many great things like getting clean and managing a stable life for her had kept them from speaking their minds. And thus far, everything seemed to have been working out. Until now.  
  
“Hell-lowww?” Trevor’s yelling in his ear brought him back to the present. “Are you still there? You better not have hung up on me, you rude fuck!”  
  
“Yea, yea, T. I’m here.” Michael said, fighting hard to keep the chuckle out of his voice, to no avail. “She’s probably just tired of looking at your ugly mug."  
  
“Are you laughing at me?” Trevor growled loudly. "You’re fucking laughing at me! That’s just perfect. Let’s all make fun of Trevor, because he has no clue what he’s doing. Very fucking funny!”  
  
“I’m- I’m sorry, Trev, it’s just...” Michael stammered, still biting back his laughter. “What do you want me to do about it?”  
  
“Fucking help me, Michael, you ass.” His friend seethed. “You’re the one with two kids. They’re both rotten and good for nothing and my kid ain’t gonna be anything like them, but you at least no how to get them to just stop crying, don’t you?”  
  
“Uh, yea, sure.” Michael said. “Have you tried burping her?” He guessed blindly. The truth was, it had been Amanda that had done most of the work with their children. Michael knew the basics, but for the most part, he’d been away on “business” for much of this stage.  
  
“Burping? What the fuck?” Trevor complained, clueless. “Agh, you’re useless!”  
  
“Well, what do you want me to do? Come all the way out there right fucking now?”  
  
“No, Mikey, I  _want_ an experienced, certified caregiver to come all the way out here _right fucking now_. But _right fucking now_ , I’m stuck with you. So you better get your ass over here before I come over there and shove a can of baby formula up it,  _right fucking now_!”  
  
“Trevor, I —"  
  
The answering beep indicated that Trevor had ended the call. The phone's screen faded back to black before brightening momentarily with missed notifications. Seven calls from Trevor. Rolling his eyes, Michael cursed. Like it or not, it seemed he was expected elsewhere. Quickly slipping on a pair of jeans and a Suburban tee. Then, he headed out the door.  
  
The sky was beginning to show the faintest bit of light in the east by the time he arrived in front of Trevor’s trailer. As he approached the little shack, even before he reached the front steps, he heard the sound of the baby crying, sounding much the same as it had on the phone which led him to believe it hadn’t stopped the whole time. Trevor was right, she was a relentless thing.  
  
Michael didn’t waste his time by knocking, instead taking the liberty of pushing the door open himself. He was greeted by the same sight of Trevor holding the little girl in his arms as he had been the first day he’d met the child, a picture that would forever strike him as odd, but also endearing. Trevor’s back was turned slightly towards the door, but Michael could still see the looks of exhaustion, panic, and hopelessness mingling on his rugged features as he swayed and bounced the baby in one arm and juggled a bottle and stuffed bear in the other.  
  
When Trevor finally noticed him, his relief was evident in the way his shoulder sunk with his sigh of relief. “Fuck, I’ve never been happier to see your hideous face.” He said, sounding more genuine than Michael had ever heard him. “What the fuck took you so long?”   
  
“Fuck you.” Michael flipped him off as he stepped further into the trailer, the door slamming behind him. “Just be glad I came at all.”  
  
“I ain’t going to be appreciative when you owe me this after all.” Trevor snapped. Michael didn’t need to ask. He knew and accepted the fact that his friend was going to hold Ludendorff over him for life, even if he had forgiven him for his acts committed there.  
  
“Just give her to me.” Michael demanded, holding out his arms. Trevor passed the equaling bundle over with more care than Michael had ever seen him handle anything. Hoping he was guessing right, Michael situated the girl over his shoulder, and slapped his hand repeatedly against her back, firmly but gently. Trevor looked on in anticipation, blessedly silent and not adding to the chaos for once.  
  
A few moments of this, and the girl quieted her wailing into a hushed whimpers, before a belch rivaling that of a grown man’s left her stomach, and all was quiet.   
  
Trevor stared wide-eyed between Michael and the baby, blinking in surprise and confusion. “That’s it?”   
  
“That’s it.” Michael said, feeling smug and doing his best to hide it.  
  
“She cried for fucking hours because, what, she was a little gassy?” Trevor gaped, incredulous.  
  
Michael didn’t respond as he switched the babies position so that she was cradled in his arms. “She’ll probably take the rest of that bottle now.” He said, nodding to Trevor, who seemed to just remember he had it in his hands and hurried to give it to him, but Michael only shook his head.  
  
“You give it to her.” He said, walking over to the couch and sitting down. Trevor followed, hesitantly. Michael passed the child to him, and Trevor moved cautiously, as though the slightest motion might upset her again. Michael couldn’t help but smile at the endearment as Trevor offered the bottle to the girl who immediately began sucking greedily away at it.  
  
“Hold her head up higher, make sure it’s above her stomach. And make sure you tip the bottle up slightly, like this.” Michael said, reaching over to adjust Trevor’s arms accordingly.   
  
“I know how to do it.” The other man frowned, and Michael watched with amusement as he became flustered, his cheeks and easier taking on a rosy hue. Even so, Trevor did as he suggested, following each of his instructions exactly as they were given.   
  
Michael racked his brain for all of the things he’d been taught by Amanda when their children were at this age, like burping every two or three ounces, how to make sure she wasn’t too hot or too cold, and which ways babies like to be held best. Trevor accepted his advice somewhat resentfully, often protesting that he already knew the things Michael was trying to tell him, even if it was clear to both of them that such was not the case. Several times, Michael had to shush him for arguing too loudly and making Rose start to fuss again. Trevor always looked apologetic after that, and did as Michael said, though it appeared he was less than fond of accepting the fact that Michael was guiding him in fatherhood, probably he was no shining example himself if Tracey and Jimmy were anything to go off of  
  
By the time the sun was beginning to rise, Rose had finally fallen asleep in her fathers arms, much to the relief of her two caretakers. Michael collapsed onto Trevor’s bed, finally feeling his lack of sleep catching up to him. Trevor followed suit after putting Rose in her crib at the foot of of the bed. His eyes were closed, but Michael felt the mattress sink with the added weight. They all laid their silently, the three of them, before Trevor spoke up in a quiet tone.  
  
“I always thought I’d be a great dad someday. But…” He exhaled. "Guess I didn’t really think that day would ever come. And now that its here…” Trevor shrugged, fading off, his insecurity painfully obvious. “I don’t know.”  
  
“Hey.” Michael said. He’d turned his head to look at his friend while he spoke, and now Trevor did the same. “No ones perfect, alright? You actually give a shit about her, and that makes you a better dad than most.” He offered, trying to sound comforting. It had never been his strong suit.  
  
But it seemed to do the trick with Trevor, who smiled at him warmly. “Yea, well. Maybe I’d make a better mom. You seem to have the dad thing down pretty good. Together, we’re a full set.”  
  
Michael snorted at his friends joke, in complete denial of the fact that he’d actually enjoyed playing house with Trevor the past few hours. “Yea, T. You’ll make a wonderful mother.”

"Sounds like one happy family to me." Trevor joked.

  
They allowed a few more moments to pass them by in silence, each of them simply enjoying the quiet and each others company. And then, Trevor spoke again, and nothing about his tone wasn’t suggestive. “You know, we might as well take advantage of this time. She ain’t going to be asleep forever.”  
  
Michael cast a sideways glance at Trevor, unsure if he actually meant what he thought he meant, although really, what else could Trevor mean? They had only been  _together_ together once since they’d reunited and that had been back when they were stuck in Sandy Shores under the threat of Madrazo’s mercenaries hunting them down. Needless to say, Michael had thought back on that day often and with fondness ever since it had happened, despite all the chaos that had occurred between them since then. He had still wondered if there would ever be an opportunity for it again.  
  
He guessed this was his answer, and he wouldn’t pass it up even through the haze of exhaustion. He grinned slightly in Trevor’s direction, a look that was mirrored by the man’s own lips, as they both leaned in close, laying side by side on the bed. Michael closed his eyes, lips pursed to receive the inevitable kiss. However, just when he began to feel Trevor’s breath caress his face, the shrill cry of a baby rang out into the quiet air, and so the cycle began again.


End file.
